


Courting Rites

by gatekat



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-02
Updated: 2010-10-04
Packaged: 2018-01-24 20:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1616003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz and Prowl are destined to bond, but it's not as easy as that.<br/>Started as Word of the Day snippets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Countering Demands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Rating:** R Slash, Mentions of past rape  
>  This would be a Word of the Day snippet, if I had a WotD that it went to. So it's just a snippet, a bit of backstory Word of the Day Drabble - Qualm  
> 

"No?" Jazz growled, his systems revved hotter than they had been in generations. The frame under his was larger but not stronger, and the mech nowhere near as skilled in combat. " ** _No_**?"

"No," Prowl looked up at him, his face impassive, though not emotionless, and his frame at ease. "I am well aware you are capable of taking anything you wish from me, including my spark. If taking will satisfy you, then take."

Jazz growled again, his optic band flashing nearly white.

"That is what I calculated," Prowl said calmly, something that from any other mech would have been smug from him was simply another datapoint. "If you wish to have my consent, you will do this my way."

" _Ya_ would set terms for _meh_?" Jazz tightened his claws on the upper edge of Prowl's chest plates.

"No," Prowl answered patiently, meeting the optic band above him and betraying nothing of the pain or fear he felt. "I set these terms for anyone who wishes to have my consent."

Jazz considered the mech he had pinned under him, considered how easy it would be to take what he wanted, to _make_ this mech beg him to continue. Yet Prowl had read him right. He wanted him willing, eager even. That meant playing Prowl's game, by Prowl's rules, at least until he could get Prowl to change them.

"So ... how many have done this dance for ya?" Jazz found himself asking.

"You are the first to get this far," Prowl answered without issue, curiosity crossing his features at the open-mouthed silence of the mech above him.

"Ya're serious," Jazz stammered, shocked enough by the information and the delivery that his frame cooled considerably. He shifted one hand to stroke Prowl's face, tracing the lines of one side gently.

"Of course," Prowl was even more confused.

"No one's ever touched ya ta bring ya pleasure."

"I did not say that," the sensor winged mech corrected quietly. "No one has done so with my consent."

"Most wouldn't have bothered ta be that nice," Jazz grumbled, knowing the truth of it, regardless of whether it was an Autobot, Decepticon or civilian who had touched _his_ mech.

"Correct," Prowl considered the silver mech for a moment. "I would like to recharge now, Jazz. Please return to your quarters."

Jazz's engine favored him with another rumbled complaint, but the silver mech slid off him and to the floor. "Ya're right, ah want ya're consent, and ah'll have it."

"Given your record, I expect you will," Prowl said, surprising the silver mech again. "Your failure rate is less than 0.3% by my calculations."

A smirk crossed Jazz's features before he turned to leave. "It's lower'n that."


	2. After the Yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Jazz/Prowl  
>  **Rating:** R, Slash, First Time  
>  Another snippet on Jazz/Prowl's courtship. Predates Prowl's Terms and Word of the Day Drabble - Qualm  
> Warning: These snippets will contain spoilers for the universe in various series well into the future.

Jazz looked down at the white, black and red Praxian laying on Prowl's berth. There was no attempt to be enticing and he could _smell_ the suppressed fear and anxiety, but with this mech, there was also no doubting that he meant the yes he'd finally given to Jazz's advance. It was a hard-won victory for the silver mech. Hundreds of vorns of effort just to get this far, to be allowed the newest and least connective of all interfacing methods.

Somewhere in that time Jazz had come to understand that he wanted this time to be special, to use the first surrender Prowl offered him to show his new lover all that interfacing could be. To educate him on what _pleasure_ was. Maybe even a bit of what it meant to be Jazz's mech.

He took another moment to revel in one of the hardest won prizes of his very long existence. "Such a hansom mech," he murmured and knelt on the berth to slide clawed fingers lightly down Prowl's broad chest, intentionally setting off many of the contact sensors there. He wanted to get the panels between their legs open, to sink into a valve that had barely been touched, to feel a nearly unused spike slide into his valve, to _show_ this reserved mech he'd worked so hard to get here what interfacing really meant.

Fingers dipped between the primary red vent plates on Prowl's upper chest and sides, enjoying the heat washing over them even as he used it to judge how ready his lover really was. He held back a frown at how close to normal temperature Prowl was. He'd agreed after so long, surely he _desired_?

With a murmur Jazz straddled Prowl and leaned forward, brushing their mouth plates together.

He quirked an optic ridge at the mech under him. "Come on, don't tell meh ya don't kiss."

"Kiss?" Prowl's passive expression shifted towards confused.

A soft sigh escaped Jazz. "You really haven't dated _anyone_ have ya?"

"I told you that," Prowl shifted from confusion to neutral again.

"No, ya said ya hadn't 'faced willingly," Jazz corrected him. "Ya didn't say anythin' about havin' not even kissed."

"Very well. Until a moment ago I had not kissed...."

"That wasn't a kiss, ah kissed ya, _we_ didn't kiss," Jazz corrected.

"I have not kissed yet," Prowl didn't object to the correction. "No one has touched me intimately with my consent."

"No one's ever wanted to be your _lover_ ," Jazz murmured and leaned down to press their lip components together again. ::Open you're mouth,:: he suggested over a very short range comm.

Prowl complied, felt Jazz slide his glossa into the space and freeze.

::Ya don't have a glossa?!::

::I was sparked a pre-programmed tactician for the PDF,:: Prowl said simply. ::Such upgrades were deemed unnecessary.::

::No wonder you didn't seem so excited by the confections and candies,:: Jazz withdrew and considered the mech under him again. "But ya're _Prime's_ Chief Tactical Officer, his fifth in command."

"We are at war. Whether I can taste or kiss as you wish to or not is decidedly frivolous," he looked up with a mixture of annoyance and bewilderment. "I was under the impression you wished to interface."

"Ah really am going to kill whoever had ya before," Jazz growled dangerously. "If ah wanted such a passive, unexpecting partner, ah'd have bought it. Ah'm trying ta _court_ ya, Pit have it!"

"You are generally too late for the first. I do not know what you expect of me here," Prowl kept his voice even and his confusion largely suppressed, though he heard the hint of helpless frustration that slipped in.

A deep, angry rumble of pure frustration echoed in the room. "At least tell meh ya have pleasure sensors."

"Yes, the default ones that came with the organic interface upgrade," he nodded.

"Nowhere else?" Jazz scowled. "What kinda sick torturer designed ya?"

"It is a standard design," Prowl said, still wondering just why Jazz was so angry. "It is unnecessary for a tactical specialist."

"The Pit is isn't," Jazz snarled, his mood completely lost. "When is your next shift?"

"In two orns, 6 joor, unless there is an attack."

"It'll do," he leapt to his feet. "Come on. Ya're getting fixed."

"I am not damaged, Jazz." Prowl sat up and really did scowl. "I will not bother Ratchet about this."

"Who said anythin' 'bout Ratchet?" Jazz glared back. "No wonder emotions frag ya so bad. Ya face all the bad and get none ah the good. _**Come**_."


	3. Upgrades Complete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Characters:** Jazz/Prowl, Ratchet  
>  **Rating:** PG-13 Slash  
>  Another snippet on Jazz/Prowl's courtship.  
> 

"Ah know ya're on line."

If Jazz's purr hit like a physical force, the slide of his claws down Prowl's chest was a maelstrom and dragged a ragged, gasping groan from the sensor winged mech.

"Careful there," another voice, one Prowl didn't like, spoke up a bit further away. "He'll be hyper sensitive for a few joor until his processors integrate the new protocols and sensors."

He belatedly identified the speaker as Ratchet. Much to his annoyance, Prime had thought the upgrades were an excellent idea once he'd gotten over the shock of learning Prowl didn't have them. Though Prowl supposed it was better to have Ratchet do the work than whoever Jazz had in mind.

Still, he refused to on-lined his optics until he'd finished a complete processor scan and determined exactly what each line of code in the new protocols did.

"Relax, you," Ratchet huffed. "He's just scanning and interrogating the extra protocols and coding. He always checks the work before showing he's aware."

A low, humming grumble came from Jazz and those claws moved again, sending bolts of intense pleasure across Prowl's sensor net.

"Not in my med bay," Ratchet growled darkly, his pede steps coming closer. "You're fine. Get up and back to your quarters with that miscreant of yours before I give you _reason_ to be off line."

"Very well, Ratchet," Prowl spoke calmly and powered up his optics to see the CMO above him with wrench in hand. The medic backed off so he could sit up, then stand, each move made carefully least the new sensory protocols and sensors disrupt his normal sensory input.

"Balance okay, any dizziness or pain?" Ratchet demanded, watching Prowl's movements intently.

"All are within normal parameters," Prowl responded calmly. "The new sensations are somewhat disorienting, however I calculate that within three joor I will have integrated all relevant software and adapted my existing protocols accordingly."

The medic huffed. "I'd say to lie still until then, but I doubt he'll let you."

"Not with th' sounds he's making," Jazz purred again and reached out, only to find his wrist securely locked in Ratchet's grip.

"I said not in my med bay. And not anywhere in public either," he added with a meaningful growl. "If that means I have to escort you two to his quarters myself, I will."

Jazz glowered at the larger mech, who glared right back.

"I can make my way to my quarters without assistance, Ratchet," Prowl broke up the challenge. "Jazz," he motioned for the smaller mech to precede him. "You may try again when we get there."

With a low rumble of eager excitement the silver mech nodded and strode out, trusting his new lover to follow.


	4. WotD: Qualm

When Prowl had come to him requested permission to bond, Optimus Prime was loathe to respond as he did, but given who his Chief Tactical Officer was requesting to bond with, he felt it necessary.

Prowl, for his part, had expected a much more volatile response. He knew his Prime was a good mech, was inclined to give everyone several chances, but he was also well aware of what he was asking for. So he bowed before leaving and proceeded directly to Ratchet as ordered. He answered the ranting medic's questions and calmly submitted to an extremely invasive scan of his processors and memory banks. Ratchet was searching for anything to explain the request other than what it really was. 

Jazz watched all this happen without being seen. Watched the mech he _would_ have for his own submissively jump through the hoops various higher ranking officers demanded, and he seethed. Did they dare believe that they could deny him, _him_ , what he had won fairly and by the rules that very mech had put forth? What did they think they could do to stop either of them? He'd won Prowl by Prowl's rules. The mech was _his_. 

The lithe silver mech was still stalking around, all but radiating his outrage when he heard Prowl's whisper-quiet systems and felt the brush of his EM field before the door to Prowl's quarters opened. 

"I thought you might be here," the sensor winged mech spoke with the calm self-assurance that he always displayed when he could. 

"How _dare_...." Jazz didn't even get a chance to begin his rant before he found himself in strong arms, pulled against a larger chassis and his mouth sealed by another's. As angry as he was, there was little will to resist this. It was a rare treat for his lover to be this amorous and Jazz was never one to miss a treat. 

"That's better," Prowl murmured, their lips only millimeters apart. "Prime's qualms were expected. They were quelled." 

"Then tonight?" Jazz felt his systems heating up quickly in anticipation. 

"No," Prowl lowered his mouth to stop the imminent protest and held the kiss until he felt his lover begin to melt in his embrace again. He lifted a hand up Jazz's helm and gently closed his fingers around his chin. "Tonight we share sparks, my love."


End file.
